


A Little Help From Your Friend

by Emeraldawn



Category: Murdoch Mysteries
Genre: Kidnapping, M/M, Sharing Body Heat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-21
Updated: 2014-08-21
Packaged: 2018-02-14 02:21:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2174394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emeraldawn/pseuds/Emeraldawn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>George wakes in a cellar, with only Henry to help him out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Little Help From Your Friend

**Author's Note:**

  * For [yeaka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/gifts).



> Yeaka it's done. My first anything in Murdoch, and I am biting my nails because I have nothing to compare it to. But I lub you and want you to feel special.

The nausea hit before George opened his eyes. Hissing in discomfort, George fought the sea of confusion and sick, trying to open his eyes and see clearly. 

Blinking twice, George tried to remove the obstruction from his eyes. After poking himself uncomfortably, he realized the problem wasn’t his yes; it was the surroundings. Wherever he was, it was pitch black. 

"Don't move, George, you got hit pretty hard." 

George felt a hand on his arm, his _bare_ arm, holding him down lightly. 

"Higgins? Where…? Ugh, my head." George closed his eyes as a wave of nausea hit again.

"We’re in a cellar. The house looks abandoned from what I could tell when they dragged us here."

"How long was I out?"

“I think no more than two hours. It's hard to tell in the dark, but I know we were in the wagon for a good thirty minutes."

George hummed. He couldn't see a thing in this blasted cellar, but, if Henry was right, that meant it was still hours before dawn.

Which meant that the stationhouse wouldn't know he or Higgins had been taken until their relief came.

"I’m sorry, George. I couldn't take them all. And when you didn't move after that hit you took-" Henry broke off with a little hitch in his voice. 

"Higgins, it wouldn't have helped either of us if you had been killed. Sometimes being a good cop is knowing when to back down. I’ve seen Detective Murdoch do it plenty of times."

Henry was silent. George couldn't tell what was on the lad’s mind when he couldn't see his face. Moving slightly to give his side some relief, George asked one of the many questions plaguing his mind. "Higgins, why am I in my underwear?"

"We both are. They made me undress, then do the same to--" 

Henry paused and George could hear him take a nervous breath. "They took the uniforms with them. I had to beg them to let us keep the undergarments."

George let Henry have his silent dignity. Begging criminals was something a constable would rather never do. The fellows at the stationhouse would never hear from George that Higgins had to beg for what little stitches of clothing they had. Even if Henry's quick thinking might have saved them from hypothermia, since the winter temperature could easy drop below freezing in this drafty area. 

Feeling a little better, George reached out to Higgins. "Help me up a bit?" Henry pulled George until he was sitting with his back against a wooden beam.

"Did you see anything in here before they left? Assuming you had any light.”

"Only dirt and cobwebs." Higgins scooted in closer so his body was pressed up against George's side. George didn't know how cold he had been until another's body heat was added to his. 

Wrapping his arms around his chest, George could feel his body rattling. That...wasn’t good. Didn't Inspector Murdoch tell him once that when the body couldn't react from the cold, it was too late?

"It's going to get worse." Henry's voice was low. "And you need to stay awake. Sleeping after a head wound is not safe."

"Are you sure, Higgins? I read that rest--"

"No, George. Remember when Detective Murdoch was talking about concussions, and how a person can die with a bad head wound? You need to stay awake, and we need to stay warm."

"Then... any ideas Higgins?" 

"I’m going to walk around slowly and see if I can find anything. I didn’t get a good look around before."

George nodded, even though it didn't do much good. He could hear Henry shuffle-walk to the closest wall. Henry walked the edge of the cellar while George talked to him, judging how far the man was from the distance of his voice. At one point Higgins’s cursing stopped George's story of his aunt and the time her fair-winning pie was eaten by the neighbor piglet, that George may or may not have brought into the house. Higgins had yelled about stumbling into a broken chair. 

At the end of his search, Higgins found a frayed rope, the broken chair, and a musty--and most likely filthy--small rag quilt. 

"Well, we can get warmer at least."

"And just how are we both going to fit under this, Higgins?"

"Simple." Henry adjusted George as quick as he could, so he was between the post and George's back. 

George didn't relax into Henry, not knowing what the protocol was for when a man pulled you to his chest. "I wasn't expecting cuddling to be your plan." 

"It's not cuddling. It's sharing body heat." Henry adjusted the quilt around their legs. "Would be better if we had skin to skin-"

"Now, hold on here Higgins--" George tried to pull himself forward.

"Calm down! You're going to make your head worse. You know, I use to grow up on stories of mountain men and cowboys. Did you even know that Roman soldiers would share body heat if needed?”

"Higgins..."

"I'm just saying, if a bunch of Romans can do it, we should be able to for one night!"

Being warmer would be nice. The shivering was making his headache worse. 

"No telling at the stationhouse?"

"George, what happens in the cellar stays in the cellar."

George nodded as his shoulder blades rubbed Higgins's chest. Only their thin undershirts were between them. George could feel Higgins's fingers brush against his lower back, his nails lightly scratching the skin close to his spine and curling around the hem of his undershirt. Higgins pulled George's shirt up ever so slightly. George wiggled a little in the V of Henry's legs, backing up into the warmth. 

"Lean back. We can stay warmer this way." George allowed himself to be pulled back until he could feel every curve in Henry's chest. Henry pulled the quilt up further, covering both of them from their shoulders down.

"There. Good?" Henry's mouth was so close to George's ear that he felt the hot breath tickle the fine hairs on his lobe.

"Yes," George’s voice cracked. His skin began to tingle now that it had some warmth under it. However, it didn't take long before George was nodding off.

"George? Come on, you need to stay awake, until we can get a doctor to see you. Tell me about your aunts again."

"Can't," George mumbled into Henry's shoulder. George was in that sweet place on the edge of dreamland, when he jerked awake from a sharp pinch in his side.

"George, you _have_ to stay awake!"

George nodded and pulled himself up straighter. "Wonder how much time has passed?" 

"Don't know. Dawn comes later in the winter... maybe four more hours?"

And that wasn't allowing for them to be found. Somehow.

"I am _not_ going to be able to stay awake for that long." George shivered a little more. It was getting colder now. He wouldn't doubt that he would see his breath if there had been light to see _anything_.

"We need to generate more heat... and do something to stop from sleeping."

George yawned. "I am all ears, Higgins."

Higgins didn't say anything, just moved a bit until his hands were resting on George's legs. "Higgins?"

"I know something that will help, but not without your say so, George."

George swallowed trying to move the dry lump devolving in his throat. "What is it, Henry?"

Henry slid his hands up George's legs, his fingers leaving hot trails in their wake.

"I’m going to touch you, George. Just lean back and enjoy it."

Any words died on his tongue when he felt Henry's thumbs trace the sides of his shaft. Other than himself, George had never had a hand on him in such a way. 

Henry moved his thumbs higher, to hook on the waistband of George's underpants, pulling it down and freeing his manhood. 

"Sorry, George, that I don't have _things_ that will make this more enjoyable. But I have learned a bit from overhearing a conversation or two from my cousin." 

George didn't know what to make of the twitch from his penis. 

Henry's hand moved over his dick, pulling the foreskin back with every downwards pull and exposing George's sensitive head to the warm air trapped in the quilt. 

George felt like he should say something. Beg to continue or to stop, but something! H remained mute, torn between his body’s actions and what he was taught.

"Oh! So this is what a grower means..." 

George didn't know what a “grower” was, but right then didn't have the function to ask. Henry's hand picked up its pace. George could hardly hear the rustling of the covering over the pounding of his heart in his ears. 

"I bet you look so tempting... breathing heavily... eyes lidded... I would love to see you touch yourself, George."

And George could see that happening. So clearly. Him, lying on his white bedcovers. Henry, sitting next to him and rubbing the inside of his ankle as he watched George with intense eyes. 

And the look Henry was giving him in George’s fantasy...like he was both a puzzle for him to solve and something delicious to devour. 

And then George felt he was being pull apart at the seams as a rush of feelings assaulted him. 

"You make the most delightful noises when you come." Henry nuzzled his nose in George's neck, laying a kiss at the nape. "Lick, George."

"Huh?" 

"My hand, George. _Lick it._ " Tilting his head forward, his nose bumped up to the palm of Henry's hand. Giving two tentative licks, George tasted salty sweat and something else.

"I bet you look debauched from only a little handjob. I can't wait to see what you look like with my mouth on you."

George could feel his cheeks heat at the thought of Higgins’s tongue licking him. Well, he now had something to look forward to once they got out of that cellar.


End file.
